DeTErmiNaTiON
by Happy Camper27
Summary: "I hate this. Those who are precious to me...are falling around me, one after another." ... "Please...forgive me." HetaOni oneshot! Character death, angst. Rated T because I'm paranoid. Please R & R!


DeTErmiNaTiON

_I hate this._

England gritted his teeth, leaving the others. He needed to look through the library on the third floor, though leaving his friends left a sour taste in his mouth. As he reached the bookshelf lined room, he felt irritation surge in his chest. Something was wrong with this place. His stomach was churning with unease, and none of his magical friends had entered the grounds with them, though he hadn't noticed until they were already inside.

Yes, something was most _definitely_ wrong with this place. _Very wrong_. He just didn't know what.

_Those who are precious to me…_

Italy came stumbling into the room, and England could almost feel that something horrible had happened.

"Italy! Where were you?" Germany snapped. Italy turned to look at him, his eyes open, glassy, and red.

"O-oh, just looking for Japan…"

England frowned. Japan hadn't come with them, so it was rather strange that Italy would mention looking for him. Of course, everything about this place was strange, so he could excuse the cowardly Italian for his peculiar statement. It was _entirely_ possible that he was simply confused.

As Germany spoke to Italy, mentioning that Japan _hadn't_ come with them to the Mansion, England shifted uncomfortably, contemplating going to the kitchen; no matter what the others said, his cooking was _excellent_. He honestly didn't know why people thought it was so horrible. Sure, he burned it little bit from time to time, but that didn't make it _horrible_. Really.

But even then, even as he was caught up in the half-hearted argument that he started with France when he mentioned going to the kitchen, he couldn't shake the unease in his belly as he glanced at Italy's face, which was pale and tear streaked.

And in his gut, he knew.

Something truly horrible had happened.

He just didn't know what…

_Are falling all around me, one after another._

England struggled to stand, blood flowing from a large gash on his head. He glanced around, and felt grief rise in his throat along with bile. Canada, as unnoticeable as he normally was, lay against the wall, a pool of blood slowly forming around him as his bear—Kumajirou, wasn't it?—nuzzled him, whimpering pitifully. America—oh, God, _America_—was slumped in a corner, curled up and dreadfully still. And France was splayed out on the floor, blood still flowing heavily from the gashes on his chest…

Rage took the place of grief, and blood rushed through England's ears like a roaring river.

"How…How _dare_ you? How _dare _you _touch_ the ones I love?! This is the _end_ for you, I'll make sure of it!" he shouted, gathering up the last of his magic. He began chanting, staring right into the pitiless black eyes of the _Thing_ that had done this. His magic began to glow around him, igniting his aura and causing his eyes to glow like emeralds. Just as he was about to release the spell, the _Thing _moved like lightning, seeming to realize what he was doing. Pain surged through him as a wet sounding _schlock_ reverberated around the quiet room and blood spattered.

Blood dripped from the _Thing's_ claws, and England ignored the agonizing pain flooding him from the hole in his torso that the _Thing_ had caused. He suppressed a flinch as its arm shifted, still inside of the bloody hole in his abdomen. Gritting his teeth, he suppressed the pain as only a Nation could. He had better things to do than allow something as trivial as pain bother him right now. He still had something important to do.

England released his spell, and the _Thing_ screeched horribly. Slowly, like morning mist in the sun, it dissolved away. England fell to the floor and turned to lie on his back, feeling the warm stickiness of blood gathering beneath him. He could feel himself growing weaker as it became harder to breathe. He stared up at the ceiling, letting his vision grow darker. At least now…he could be with the ones he treasured the most.

"_I'm sorry…that I couldn't do more…my friends…"_

When Italy later went looking for the four, he found England lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with blank green eyes…and a gaping hole in his abdomen, lying in a pool of his own blood.

_I can't keep letting them be hurt._

_I won't._

England bit his lip, tasting the harsh iron tang of blood. He stared at Russia and China's unmoving bodies, lying so very still on their beds. Both were covered in wounds, and had clearly died protecting both each other…and the rest of them. Guilt and anger rose up in his chest in equal amounts. England wasn't sure whether he wanted to sob or to punch something.

One thing was for sure though.

This _had to stop._

_And if I can stop It at all…_

…_no matter the cost…_

England closed his eyes, feeling irritation flooding him. They were all sidling around the topic, tiptoeing around him as though he were made of glass. Just because he had given up his sight to save them…!

Suddenly, he felt grief well up and consume the irritation. For even though he had used up his magic and sacrificed his sight to be able to save them…

Germany and Japan still lay limply on their beds. Unmoving…

… and dead.

_Then I will do so._

_For if it is to save you, my friends,_

England stared blankly at the Journal in front of him. Little, cowardly Italy had signed this horrid thing. _Italy_.

Oh _dear God_.

Abruptly coming to a decision, he flipped the book open and grabbed the pen that lay near him. He stared at the page, noting the flowing cursive of the two signatures. Ryuuzu…and Italy Veneziano. He licked his lips, knowing full well what he was about to do was like signing his own death warrant.

But wasn't it worth it?

He was Great Britain, and Empire on which the sun never set! Nothing had ever daunted him, not the fiercest of storms on the high seas, nor the bombs that had fallen on his homeland's heart repeated during World War 2, and he'd be damned if he let something like this stop him from protecting those he cherished.

Mind made up, he placed the pen on the page, preparing to sign.

_Then I will do anything._

_Please…_

_Forgive me._

**/End.\**

**Another HetaOni oneshot completed, and this time in England's POV! Yay! Anyway, this one isn't like the past two, where it took place in one definable instance. Instead, his one takes little random shots of the time loops and places them here along with some of England's thoughts and determination in italics between scenes.**

**Oh, and don't worry, England didn't manage to sign in the Book. It's a sort of headcannon of mine that England, in one of the time loops, found out about what had happened and managed to get his hands on the Book. However, just as he was about to sign it and join Italy in the time loops while being aware of them, he was distracted by some of the others and Italy retrieved the Book before England could sign it. It just had a small ink blot. **

**And yes, there is FACE in here. I just couldn't resist. Besides, FACE is very cute!**

**Also, I was listening to Sapph's cover of England's Song from HetaOni while editing this! ^^**

**Anyway, how do you guys like these oneshots so far? Are there any characters' POV you would like to see? (This includes those who aren't technically in the Mansion, but are trying to get them out, like Austria and S. Korea)**

**R & R, please!**

**Ja ne, Minna-san!**

**~Happy Camper27**


End file.
